


Asphyxia

by DangerSlut



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies), Mad Max: Fury Road
Genre: Crucifixion, Dehydration, F/M, Humiliation, M/M, Major Character Death (Implied), Other, Torture, Urine, Whipping, expose to the elements, suffocation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 18:06:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3905770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DangerSlut/pseuds/DangerSlut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn’t know why they their treating him like this. He can’t remember if he has crossed any of them before. He thinks they are just doing this for fun. They’re raiders, why else would they?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Asphyxia

**Author's Note:**

> I have not seen Mad Max: Fury Road yet but I was really craving some Mad Max torture porn >:) So here are some raiders being completely awful to Max! Enjoy!  
> My Tumblr is Dangerslut.

It was midmorning when they drag him out from under the car he had hidden under for the frigid desert night, exhausted and sore, from both the beatings and being forced to run behind the car he had been chained to the day before. The chain was attached to a collar, which one of the young raiders had smugly placed around his neck.

He doesn’t know why they their treating him like this. He can’t remember if he has crossed any of them before. He thinks they are just doing this for fun. They’re raiders, why else would they?

Dragging Max through the sand by the chain, not caring about how he chokes and snarls through the heavy metal muzzle they had put on him. They take up to the top of one of the many dunes surrounding the camp and force him to stand, the sun beating down mercilessly on his muscular body.

They don’t speak to him as they force his arms behind his back, tying them together at the wrist before bending his elbows and wrenching his arms up high. Max groans through clenched teeth as his shoulders creak under the strain, eyes squeezing shut only to snap open again then he feels something hard slip up along his spine and under his arms.

Snarling like a beast, he looks back over his shoulder to see what they have done, only to see a metal cross behind him. It had been roughly welded together, stained red with rust.  
The raiders laugh as they start to straighten their makeshift cross, planting the end deeply into the dune. Max his forced to stagger backwards, the T-section pulling at his shoulders painfully as it rises higher and higher, making him shuffle about on his tip-toes.

When the cross was properly erected, standing tall and strong in the sands, Max was lifted off the ground. All of his weight was supported by his shoulders and twisted arms, agony unlike anything he knew racking his body.

They laugh as he kicks and curses at them, hopelessly trying to squirm off the cross. They watch with amusement as he exhausts himself even more, his face turning into a mask of pain when he moves the wrong way. He looked good like this, angrily fighting the enviable. It would make good entertainment to watch him suffocate to death if they decided to make camp for a few days...

But they still had so much in store for him. So many of them want a piece of handsome, troublesome man.

When they tier of his struggling, the raiders move in. They strip him of his boots and pants, wrestling his legs up so that they could pull them off instead of cutting them. You never waste anything salvageable, and sturdy boots and pants are commodities out here in the wastes.

He wasn’t wearing any underwear, which was not something they would keep anyways, laugh when they see his soft cock. “Look, it’s so small,” they tease, voices soft and cooing as they mock him. “No wonder he acts to tough. Like an animal… He must be so ashamed!”

Max hears the laughter of women, of young men, and blushes in humiliation as he bares his teeth in rage. Someone pats it, like they would a dog, and it has him snarling.

They forces his legs together, one of the raiders cupping his delicate cock and balls in their rough hand and pulling them up and forwards, forcing them to rest on his thighs. They quickly bind his knees together with rope, keeping his thighs together and his cock on display. The bind his ankles to either side of the cross as well to keep him from kicking anyone. It gives him the slightest bit of support, allowing him to brace his thighs and push himself up to relieve some of the strain on his arms and chest.

His shirt isn’t worth the effort of saving, even if Max hadn’t already been staked up. It was filthy, stained with blood and dirty and who knows what else, and shows more than if covers with the amount of holes in it.

A raider produces a knife from his belt, the sliver blade gleaming brightly in the midday sun. Max swallows thickly when he sees it, his body tensing in preparation for pain as the raider approaches him with a grin.

Max shivers as he feels the tip of the knife drag up the outside of his sweaty thigh, catching on the skin occasionally but not cutting him. The raider’s grin turns wicked as he slides the knife over Max’s thighs, then carefully scrapes it over the bound man’s balls, finally scratching the surface.

It pulls a fearful grunt from Max, his eyes widening behind the spikes of the muzzle that come up in front of his face.

Humming, the raider starts to cut away his filthy shirt, bunching it in his fist before hacking it away carelessly. Max hisses and jerks away from the blade, trying to escape as it digs in and tears his skin open. He can see blood welling up under the tattered remains of his shirt, leaking in and spreading through the cloth before the raider rips the rags away.

There are three short cuts zigzagging their way across Max’s chest, dripping blood down his strong, dust coated chest and belly. Max glares at the raider through the bars of his muzzle, trying to look intimidating as possible and he takes ragged breathes through clenched teeth. It was getting harder to breath, to inhale. He must have exhausted himself more than he though.

The raider is unaffected by his snarl though, only smirking at Max before reaching up to undo the chain from the collar. “Mean bastard, aren’t you?” chuckles the raider, his voice thick and gruff. “Hmm, I’m sure I can beat that attitude out of you in no time.”

As the brute of a raider takes a few steps back, the rest of the crowd does as well, giving both Max and the other man space. The raider holds the chain in his hands, the thick links clinking together as he starts to swing it back and forth.

Max takes a sharp breath as the raider paces, lifting the chain and swinging the chain back. Max closes his eyes as he sees the chain whipping towards him, blurring with as it speeds towards him. It crashes into his ribs with a sickening thud, the impact knocking him to the side and making him gasp. Pain radiates through his side, his skin jumping as his muscles ripple.

He’s hit again on the other side of his ribs, the strike of the chain coming so quickly he hardly has time to process the pain. The blows don’t stop or slow, the raider whipping him from chest to thigh. Sometimes the chain smack heavily against his skin, bringing bruises instantly to the surface. Other times, the raider lets it wrap around him, the chain picking up momentum and cutting into his skin.

Digging in deep gouges then ripping away chucks of flesh as the raider pulls back the chain.

When the raider finally stops, Max is bruised and bloodied from chest to knee. Ribbons of flesh hang from his body, blood tricking down his marred skin to speckle the sand below. His chest is heaving as he struggles to breath. His pain is bone deep and it is difficult to support himself enough to get a good lungful of air. His hands and feet are numb.

The raiders are full of excitement, laughing and chatting with each other. They're passing a bottle of water around, the precious liquid shinning on their lips as they licked up every drop.

Max can’t help but lick his chapped lips at the sight of it, his dry tongue dragging over tender flesh. He had screamed himself hoarse through the beating, his throat as dry as the desert itself. God, he would do anything for a sip…

“Thirsty?” asks the raider with the chain, sneering when he sees he has lost Max’s attention. “I don’t think you deserve something as good as water… Maybe we can find something else for you to drink.”

With a growl, the raider swings the chain over his head and brings it down in Max’s lap, directly on his cock and balls. Max screams, the piercing ringing out into the desert. He shrieks as the chain crashes into his lower belly, digging deeply into his guts. 

Something hot splashes over his thighs, stinging the rents in his flesh, the pain just adding to his frenzied howls. The bound man screeches, jerking upwards and throwing his head back only to crack it against the top of the cross. His eyes roll back and darkness creeps into the corners of his vision. 

He can feel the raiders cluster around him, laughing as they lift something into his lap. He can't understand anything they are saying or what they are doing, the pain that is still echoing through his body consuming his ability to think.

One of the larger raiders bends down and lifts one of the younger up into his arms. The tiny raider was only a teenager, so petite and ornately dressed that Max couldn't tell if they were male or female.

The teenager lifts something over Max's head, a mason jar, then smiles and says "Drink, if you are thirsty."

Max opens his mouth without thinking, tilting his head back and waiting for mercy. His throat is as dry as the dust, every breath he takes like fire. 

The young raider tips the jar over and pours the contents right into Max's mouth, and the raiders erupt in a roar of laughter when he sputters and chokes on his own piss.  
Max coughs and gags at the taste, thrashing and spitting to try and clear it of his mouth. He hadn't had a drink in so long, almost a day now, so what little pissed had been in him will do nothing for him.

"Look, still so much spirit!" chuckles a woman when Max composes himself.

"Never seen anything like it! Most shit themselves when we string them up!" cries another.

"Heh, we'll see how spirited he is after a few hours. The sun will cook the fight out of him... If he doesn't suffocate first," says the raider with the chain, quieting the rest.  
There is a hum of agreement among the raiders and slowly they start to head back to the camp, bored with their toy.

\---

They leave him staked late into the night, coming periodically to check on him. They take bets on how long it will take for him to beg, until he cries, until he is dead. They ask him how long he think he will last as well, nudging him with their elbows playfully and grinning.

Max ignores them as best as he can. He can't let them distract him now. Every inch of his body ached, open gouges in his flesh stinging in the wind, the heat roasting the energy out of him. He can hardly support himself on the cross anymore... He's not sure if he will make it through the night.

The moon was high in the sky when someone comes to check on him again. No one had come to mock or taunt him since dusk, all of the raiders rushing off for dinner and to wrangle their lovers into bed. As much as Max hated them, seeing that he had not been completely forgotten is a relief.

It was the teenager, striding confidently up the hill. They are wearing more clothing than the day before, heavy furs on top of leathers to stave off the cold of the desert night. They had washed their face of dirt and war paint, and undid their hair. They are beautiful, with skin as pale as the moon and hair as red and flowing as the dunes around them.  
The raider circles him, watches as his arms give out and he hangs on the cross until he can hardly breath before pulling himself back up. He gasps in agonizing mouthfuls of air, his throat raw and his lungs burning.

"Poor man," says the raider, stopping to stand in front of Max, their voice soft and gentle. "It won't be long now... Here let me ease your suffering." The raider practically purrs the last few words, and small smile curling on their lips as they reach out and carefully palm Max's cock.

The bounds man hisses and twitches, arms flexing as the raider stokes their fingers delicately over his flesh. He is just as bruised and cut down there as the rest of his body is and each stroke danced between pleasure and pain.

"Sssh, don't be afraid," murmurs the raider, moving to stand at Max's side so that his bent knees wouldn't be in the way. They wrap their free arm around Max's lowers back, pressing them side to side, the raider's skin warmed clothes blessed Max with warmth.

The raider curls their finger around Max's hardening cock, starting to carefully jerk it. Max grunts, licking his lips and letting his eyes close, deciding to enjoy what was probably going to be the last bit of pleasure he ever feel.

"Yeah, that's it," encourages the young raider, pressing kisses to his bruised ribs. "One last time..."

Max gasps as he feels the raider shift at his side, heat filling his lap as the young one bends forwards and takes his cock in his mouth. Max grunts and makes rasping sounds as the raider's soft, wet mouth envelops him, their hot tongue swirling against the underside of cock. The raider moans in time with him, moans as if it were the best thing he ever had in their mouth. Max doubted that was true, but he appreciates it.

The raider bobs and sucks, trailing their nails over Max's thighs and stomach. Pain sparks occasionally as a cut or bruise are scraped across, the pleasure drowns the pain out to a mere annoyance. 

Sucking harshly, the raider takes Max in until his cock is hitting the back of their throat, gagging and moaning loudly, spit dribbling down their chin. Max gasps and bucks his hips forwards, ramming his cock down the raider's throat and cumming. The raider doesn't move, doesn't try and pull back and breath, but instead suckles Max's cock and swallowing every drop.

When the raider does finally pull back, long after Max's body had stopped trembling and he had caught his breath, there was a wicked smile on the young things face.

"Remember this in your final moments. Think of me instead of death and you won't feel any fear," insists the raider, hair framing their face and lips slick with spit and cum. "You don't have long now. If you make it to morning, well..." 

With another smile, the beautiful raider turns and heads back down the dune to camp, leaving Max to wonder if he really does want to live until morning.


End file.
